


Quietly and Safely

by Yeomanrand



Series: Diptych [1]
Category: Star Trek (2009)
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Nightmares
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-07-24
Updated: 2010-07-24
Packaged: 2017-10-10 18:52:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 561
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/102997
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yeomanrand/pseuds/Yeomanrand
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kirk has a nightmare.  McCoy is there for him</p>
            </blockquote>





	Quietly and Safely

**Author's Note:**

> For the "Nightmares" square on my h/c bingo card. Beta by Shinychimera.

Jim had to be dreaming; Bones had been -- was -- with him on the _Enterprise_, not lost in his worst nightmare in one of the other ships whose hulls would have been rattling in the orbit of what used to be Vulcan but for the vacuum of space, and Spock wasn't locked behind the antimatter containment shielding of the warp core but no, that was someone else's memory not a memory he was _dreaming_ heart racing and running, now, over an ice-field where he couldn't get traction sweating bullets beneath the heavy coat and the cold cold air biting into his lungs until he snapped awake but he wasn't sure strong arm around his waist and warm body up against his soaking back.

"Awake now?" Bones asked, gruff with interrupted sleep, shifting and pushing just a bit, sitting up and tossing aside the thin thermal blanket that had been covering both of them. Jim nodded, teeth chattering, and followed Bones' lead up to his feet then into the bathroom and the shower, not sure when he'd gotten out of or been gotten out of his shorts. He heard himself make a distressed noise when Bones turned on the sonics and stepped away, but a broad hand closed gently on his bicep.

"Be right back," Bones said, "just goin' to strip the bed."

He left both the door to the shower and to the bathroom open, and through the doorways Jim watched Bones efficiently pull the sheets off the bed and replace them. Shudders slowly left his body. He waited until Bones was back in the bathroom to say, "I'm sorry."

"You can't help dreamin', Jim. Nothin' to be sorry for."

"'S twice I've woken you tonight."

"Yeah. So?" The noise Bones made wasn't quite a laugh. "First year med school trains you out of worryin' over lost sleep." He leaned against the wall, looking at the mirror and not at Jim, but just his presence was enough. Warm and solid and _there_.

Jim finally shut the sonics off and stood still a moment, gathering himself and struggling to shake off the madness of the dream. He startled when Bones gently gripped his wrist, started to tense and pull away but Bones just tugged firmly, as though Jim were a recalcitrant child, drawing his hand into the sleeve of the robe Bones was holding. He let the fight go out of him, let Bones wrap him up and lead him back to the bed, curled up and let his eyes drift half-closed, listening to Bones move around his cabin, changing his own sweat-soaked pants now that Jim was settled. Amazed, as always, by how much Bones would tolerate, and how much he would give, just because Jim was Jim, and they were friends.

"Bones?"

Bones looked over his shoulder at Jim, just enough light coming from the bathroom for Jim to see the dark concern in his expression. Jim felt winded; some emotion too intense to be named compressing his chest.

"Are you ever going to ask?" he finally managed to get out around the unexpected knot in his throat.

The narrow mattress shifted beneath him, Bones settling along his back, arm going back loosely around Jim's waist.

"You'll tell me. When you're ready."

"Just like that?"

"Mm-hm. Just so. Now hush, or I might decide I'm not feelin' so forgivin' after all."

**Author's Note:**

> Dreaming permits each and every one of us to be quietly and safely insane every night of our lives. -William Dement, in Newsweek, 1959


End file.
